


I know every mark on your hand

by thegrumblingirl



Series: Dishonored prompts [7]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: (only a little bit), Affection, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Canon-Typical Emotional Baggage, Canon-Typical Violence, Daud asking Corvo "What do you need?" in THAT VOICE, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Hugs, Kissing, Kissing Knuckles, Leverage AU, M/M, No Dialogue, Pining, Playful Sex, Pre-Relationship, Requited Love, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, implicit sexual content, just a small thing to make up for deleting Whose Duty Was Fulfilled, kissing bruises, physical affection, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27080953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl
Summary: 5 or 6 times Corvo and Daud were too cute to bear. tumblr prompt fills!
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Daud
Series: Dishonored prompts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1105689
Comments: 34
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt list: [here](https://screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse.tumblr.com/post/631707770828308480/physical-affection-prompts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daud didn’t generally stop to think about it, and if pressed would tell anyone to mind their own mess and stop bothering him, but it occurred to him now that he had never seen Corvo so… excited. In any way excited, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reply on tumblr: [here](https://screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse.tumblr.com/post/632239494196805632/10-please-lifting-someone-up-out-of-excitement).

Daud didn’t generally stop to think about it, and if pressed would tell anyone to mind their own mess and stop bothering him, but it occurred to him now that he had never seen Corvo so… excited. In any way excited, really. Whenever Piero announced that he had upgrades or new blueprints for them, there was a low thrum in the air, something darker than simple curiosity. When a plan went their way — especially against the Hatters — Corvo’s satisfaction held a grim edge to it that Daud understood only too well. And for the Royal Protector, what other source of _excitement_ was there? As long as Emily was not yet of age (yet already Empress and learning how to put one over on them every day), the weight of the world seemed to rest on Corvo’s shoulders, and there was only so much even the newly-minted Royal Spymaster could do.

He had resisted for what felt like ages — in truth, he had held out for years — and even now it seemed feckless. But years _had_ passed, and his name had slowly faded from the city’s memories. Those same memories still cast shadows in many people’s lives, and none moreso than his own. What he’d done, to the Isles and to the two people he now held closest to his heart… he had failed, had failed Corvo’s sun and stars, and he’d failed Emily even worse. He had promised her her mother would be safe running with the wolves instead of behind high walls, and what he’d done with his foolish plan was to condemn them all to misery.

That was what the years had been for, too: to repay a debt.

Had he known the debt he would owe her the moment he met her —

He had widowed Corvo the day he’d meant to save him.

And now, here he was, with the same man _beaming_ at him. Not for the first time he’d asked whether Daud had reconsidered, had pleaded his case for Daud to take the position again, and this time, this time Daud had simply said, “Alright.”

“Was that a yes?” Corvo seemed to be reining himself in best he could, lest Daud change his mind; as though he did not know that any agreement Daud had ever given was set in stone. Given to Corvo, more than anything.

Unsure of his words, Daud merely nodded, regarding Corvo somewhat warily. There was _something_ brimming under the surface, and he wasn’t sure he’d like it when it burst.

Before he could say anything further, Corvo closed the distance between them and, with Daud stifling an indignant yelp that no-one would ever hear of and live, wrapped both strong arms around Daud’s waist and _lifted_. Daud felt for a second as though being hoisted out of his own body — _certainly hoisted by my own petard_ , he thought sardonically — and reflexively clamped his own fingers down on Corvo’s shoulders.

“Corvo!” he barked.

Looking down, he found Corvo with his head tilted back, his chin pressing into Daud’s sternum most uncomfortably, and grinning up at him.

“What on earth are you doing?” Daud attempted to squirm, albeit experiencing some difficulty considering the tight hold Corvo had on him in order to be able to grasp his own wrists behind Daud’s broad back, and stopped abruptly when he realised it made his feet fidget _in mid-air._

“I love you,” Corvo entirely disarmed him next, and Daud stilled completely.

Softening his frown into something else, he observed the expression in Corvo’s eyes. Shifting his hand, he slid his gloved fingers into Corvo’s hair, coming to rest at the back of his neck.

“And I you,” he said gruffly, and Corvo’s arms seemed to squeeze him yet a little tighter. A thought threatened to voice itself, but Daud held it back. Only when Corvo tilted his head a little, prompting, he added, “Perhaps I ought to handle the proposal, if you’re this prone to wanton displays.” He felt his cheeks warm as he said it, and cursed Corvo’s handsome face for making him say such a thing out loud. For _daring_ —

“Perhaps you should,” Corvo responded softly, and the tenderness in his voice proved to be Daud’s undoing.

“Let me down,” he complained, pushing against Corvo’s shoulder with his hand still resting there. When Corvo shook his head, delightfully obstinate, Daud rolled his eyes. “I can’t kiss you like this, I’ll break my back.”

“Oh,” Corvo said, his eyes widening a little sheepishly. Abruptly, he as good as dropped Daud, who would swear he felt his teeth clatter.

But with solid ground back under his feet — and Corvo once more towering over him, the big lug — Daud didn’t mind so much. Without saying another word, he framed Corvo’s face in his hands and drew him down towards him. Corvo met him eagerly, and as he closed his eyes, Daud allowed himself a spark of excitement of his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the sky was fair and the wind in their favour, Daud would arrive today. He’d been travelling on assignment for almost a month, and Corvo was eager to see him return. As were many others at the Tower — Emily missed him, and so did the Whalers, even though the words would hardly pass their lips. When they trained with Emily, they’d so obviously reach for what and how Daud had taught them to decide what to pass onto her, and each time Corvo recognised that little slip of wistfulness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reply on tumblr: [here](https://screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse.tumblr.com/post/639684181908193281/aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-okay-okay-okay-okay).

15, Songs

If the sky was fair and the wind in their favour, Daud would arrive today. He’d been travelling on assignment for almost a month, and Corvo was eager to see him return. As were many others at the Tower — Emily missed him, and so did the Whalers, even though the words would hardly pass their lips. When they trained with Emily, they’d so obviously reach for what and _how_ Daud had taught them to decide what to pass onto her, and each time Corvo recognised that little slip of wistfulness.

After spending so long without him during the year Daud was lost to the Void, every week seemed too long. Yet, Corvo knew that the arrangement they’d come to had been the right decision. And today, Daud was coming home.

Daud did arrive not long after, at midday, and it was both blessing and a curse. They had to hide all their relief and urgency for the rest of the early afternoon. They had a brief moment of reunion when Daud cornered Corvo on his way through the library; shock and surprise and satisfaction all tangled up in his gut when suddenly Daud was there, still smelling of the sea and pressing him up against the shelves.

Murmurs of “You’re back,” and “Hello, bodyguard,” were lost against lips searching and finding, and then they didn’t speak again until Daud had drawn away.

“On your way to a meeting?”

Corvo nodded, and then reached out to let the back of his hand brush Daud’s. “With Curnow and Thomas. You could join us.”

Daud hummed, and Corvo expected him to move to let him pass. When Daud didn’t budge, Corvo wanted to ask what was wrong, but then instead, Daud reached for him. Melting into the embrace, Corvo tucked his face into Daud’s neck and breathed him in. Daud’s hand, still gloved because it always was, came up and tangled into his hair. When Corvo squeezed him tighter, Daud patted the back of his head, somewhat awkwardly. Corvo smiled against his shoulder.

* * *

It turned out that the next three hours were torture. Not that that came as a surprise to Daud — he had spent many a meeting in the past barely restraining himself from bending Corvo over one of the reading desks in the library. But by the Void, today was especially grating. It didn’t help that Curnow and Thomas _knew_ , and didn’t exactly hide their amusement at watching Daud grow increasingly… frustrated. What didn’t help, either, was that Corvo kept letting the tips of his fingers brush the back of Daud’s hand, or his arm, _as if_ by accident. Bastard.

It was _hours_ before they had Corvo’s quarters to themselves again, and Daud unashamedly made a show of glancing at Corvo’s appointment book, open on his desk.

“Daud…” Corvo murmured, amused, with only a low warning in his tone. “It’s barely afternoon.” There was no fooling Daud, though — and Corvo wasn’t trying.

“Then we should make the most of it,” Daud returned, his voice growing thick with want as he stalked over to where Corvo had conveniently stationed himself by the bed.

“Daud,” Corvo managed before Daud arrived in front of him, close enough to touch but not… actually… touching.

“Yes?” Daud rumbled.

Corvo smiled, and raised a hand to lay it on Daud’s cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

Daud turned his head and pressed a kiss against Corvo’s palm, but held his gaze.

“We have an hour,” Corvo murmured, and Void, Daud had missed the way his voice dipped so low when they were close like this.

A moment later, they were kissing and tugging, pulling, at each other’s clothes. Daud cursed the Lord Protector’s buckles and Corvo hissed at Daud’s new belt that still betrayed some, ah, stiffness.

Minutes passed and they found themselves kneeling on the bed, facing each other, Corvo steadily reeling Daud in closer as though caught on a Tether. Daud went willingly at first, wanting nothing more than to get near, but then he had another idea. Before Corvo could catch the smirk tugging at his lips, he let one hand wander down to Corvo’s waist, the other to his thigh, and then he _lifted_ Corvo up into the air. Using the momentum, he threw Corvo down on the bed length-wise, on his back.

Corvo yelped, then blinked for a moment before starting to laugh. “What _possessed_ you?” he asked, squirming a little to get one of the pillows under his head.

Daud ignored the question in favour of crawling on top of him, bracing himself on all fours. They both knew that any _silliness_ Daud displayed for Corvo was entirely predatory in nature. He grinned down at him, and Corvo rolled his eyes, but then his expression softened and he smiled up at Daud.

“I love you,” Corvo said quietly.

“I know,” Daud answered, stupidly smitten and yet in a mood to tease. He lowered his head to mouth at Corvo’s throat at the same time as Corvo stretched up to kiss him, and it resulted in a fairly dull _thud_. Corvo rubbed his chin while Daud snorted, shaking his head. “Graceless, Attano,” he drawled.

“Do better,” Corvo challenged.

Daud did so and, setting the tips of his fingers against Corvo’s chin to keep his head tilted back, he delivered a low, teasing bite to Corvo’s collarbone. Corvo moaned low in his chest. That was more like it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corvo turned over on the bed. He felt cold again.
> 
> “Call if you need anything,” Daud had told him ere he retired that evening.
> 
> Now, Corvo needed… something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reply on [tumblr](https://screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse.tumblr.com/post/639684493590069248/from-the-physical-affection-prompts-maybe-15-or)
> 
> cw for suicide mention (of a minor character) on this one!

Second chances made fools of people. And Corvo was, inevitably, a fool. Had been all his life. From deciding to enter the Blade Verbena at sixteen, to spending his last night in Karnaca with his squadmates, three sheets to the wind, instead of realising that he would never see his mother again. From letting his sister run off to the docks when he was a boy, to never stopping to look for her when he was a man. And then, believing his secondment to Dunwall to be the chance he’d been looking for, only to fall in love. And then, to lose her.

He’d been a fool to think it could have ended any other way than tragedy.

He woke at night, breathing harshly, and stared at the ceiling, all the while trying to calm his racing heart.

Corvo was not alone. Emily was in her room upstairs, safe and guarded by men and women he trusted. And down the hall, there was… their master.

He had come to warn them, but too late: the machine had been unstoppable by then. Corruption, greed, and violence, all tangled up like… what did he like to say? Tangled up like a bag of snakes. There’d been far too many snakes hiding in the weeds that day, and the months after.

And now, Daud lived with them, almost, and some days Corvo wondered whether he’d appointed himself the Royal Protector’s bodyguard. Corvo should like to see him appointed Spymaster, instead, and so would Emily, but as yet Daud still steadfastly refused. Yes… the Knife of Dunwall was nothing if not steadfast.

What even he couldn’t seem to deny Corvo, however, was comfort. Corvo thought of the way Daud’s hand had lingered on his back just earlier that day, a grounding touch to cast Corvo a lifeline whilst he read the report of Pendleton’s prison suicide.

“How?” he’d ground out, panic strangling him, all of it rushing back: the chaos of Kingsparrow Island, Havelock’s arm around Emily’s neck, the pistol at her temple. The sickening freefall of Martin’s body when Havelock shot him first. Then, Emily’s piercing screams.

The warmth of Daud’s hand through the fabric of his coat and shirt had dispelled the fog a little, pushed through the mist to reach Corvo there, in the dark and cold of the memory.

Hours later, Corvo turned over on the bed. He felt cold again.

“Call if you need anything,” Daud had told him ere he retired that evening.

Now, Corvo needed… something.

He knew that, when he did spend the night at the Tower, Daud rarely actually slept. Rather, he pored over reports of files all night before returning to Rudshore just after dawn: doing the work a Spymaster ought to be doing, and yet he wouldn’t hear a word of it. Corvo would likely find him at his desk — the twin of Corvo’s. A little too large for the space, but Corvo had wanted him to have it. With a sigh, Corvo kicked back the covers. He dressed haphazardly, hardly caring whether anyone saw him — he wasn’t planning on taking the scenic route.

Five minutes later, he stood outside the door to Daud’s quarters, and had barely decided to knock when a low voice rumbled, just loud enough: “I know your footsteps, Corvo.”

That decided it. Corvo opened the door and slipped inside quickly. He mustered some surprise at seeing Daud similarly dressed down — the most dishevelled he’d ever seen him had been after that bomb at Sokolov’s house had gone off and, for a sickening moment, Corvo had feared the blast had taken Daud clean through the foundations of the house and into the river below the bridge. But there Duad had been, clinging to a girder and swearing like a sailor. Studiously so, for a man who detested boats.

He brought himself back to the present, finding Daud watching him with hooded, grey eyes.

“Why are you here, Corvo?” Daud asked.

Corvo rather suspected he knew, but he also suspected that Daud wanted to hear him _say it_. Only Corvo did not know _what_ to say.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said simply, skirting around the heart of it.

“Could ask Piero to give you something. Something better than whiskey, at any rate,” Daud said, setting aside his paperwork. Corvo had his undivided attention — something he could not understand why it was so important. But it was.

Corvo stood, still near the door, and shook his head. “I’ve no wish to drown myself in alcohol, or the Void.”

To his surprise, Daud — bluntly, efficiently — gestured toward the bed. _His_ bed. “Go on,” he said.

Corvo blinked at him. “I just told you I can’t sleep.”

“And you came here just to tell me that? You want some rest. So get some rest,” Daud rumbled.

“I can’t just _occupy_ your quarters,” Corvo protested.

“I’ll be over here. Don’t worry, I shan’t disturb you.” Daud had returned to his papers; a clear attempt at dismissal.

“That’s not—“

“Take it or leave it, Corvo.” Daud’s tone was gruff, but not unkind.

As if struck by the thought of being turned out of the room, Corvo took a sideways step toward the bed. Daud nodded once, satisfied. Closing the distance quickly, Corvo sat before he could talk himself out of it. But as he did, he felt a fool yet again.

“Daud,” he said, sounding miserable even to his own ears.

As if reading his thoughts, Daud suddenly dropped his pen once more, got up and rounded the desk. He stepped up briskly to where Corvo sat, and then crouched down in front of him, yet taking care not to touch him.

“What do you need, Corvo?” Daud asked, voice so gruff again. And again, there was that notion. _I need to hear you say it._

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he whispered.

As if cut loose from invisible bonds, Daud surged up to meet him. Corvo instinctively opened his arms, and then found Daud’s shoulder with his cheek. It was an awkward position, with both of them sitting on the edge of the bed, Daud turned to Corvo at an angle. But it was what Corvo needed. He wrapped his arms around Daud fully, and shivered slightly when Daud’s large hand covered the nape of his neck, his strong arms like a vise around him. Corvo closed his eyes.

After drowning in the cold for so long, Corvo finally felt so warm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daud turned to look at him as he came closer, while Lurk busied herself with her pipe. The Knife looked older. They all did. The only one who never aged was the one who’d given them these ‘gifts’ that they’d used to remake themselves. In whose image, Corvo often wondered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reply on [tumblr](https://screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse.tumblr.com/post/640224134001000448/prompt-17-ouo)

It had been a long day — and a long week, a long _month_ before that. Void, it’d been a long year.

Long life.

Perhaps, when Corvo had been dispatched by the Duke, to Dunwall, he hadn’t known to expect to live that long. And now, he was fifty-five years old, he had just returned from Karnaca with two assassins and a half-crazed scientist in tow, and had revived his stone-cast daughter, who also happened to be the ruler of this modest Empire that he served. Almost forty years… there was no thinking about it.

Nor about the ex-assassins currently taking up the two visitors’ chairs in his quarters — like _guests_. The man and woman, like father and daughter not in blood but bond and the way they argued, who had once been the scourge of Dunwall. Hand and heart of the Whalers — at the very least, head and hand. The Knife had cast a long shadow before he’d vanished. Before Corvo had come to haunt him.

So they sat there, and Corvo watched them from the door a moment, then stepped into the room.

They had helped him save Emily. They had helped him save the _Empire_. They had put themselves at risk against Grand Guard soldiers, a coven of witches, and Clockwork men alike. At some point, being cooped up on a boat together, they had ceased to be assassins in his eyes — and they’d become… allies. Void forfend, in a different life he might have named them friends. If Daud had not disappeared, all those years ago — from Karnaca, then. Not from Dunwall. Once they’d got to Gristol, everything had already been too late. Too broken to salvage, and they too caught up in their destinies to find each other again.

Daud turned to look at him as he came closer, while Lurk busied herself with her pipe. The Knife looked older. They all did. The only one who never aged was the one who’d given them these ‘gifts’ that they’d used to remake themselves. In whose image, Corvo often wondered.

It was strange, to speak to them here. On the ship, it had been easier to let the past be history — something faraway and distant. Recorded in books, not memories. The past was… It lived in their bones. It was always there. And yet, the longer they lived, the past grew smaller. Corvo wondered whether one day it might be light enough upon their shoulders to let them stand up tall.

Not that Corvo would ever let anyone see him with his back bowed to tragedy again.

* * *

There was a thrumming in the air, when they trained together. When they leapt across the city’s rooftops, there was an understanding. They had both very nearly lost their connection to the Void; Corvo to Delilah’s magic and Daud to Ashworth’s infernal science. They had been bested from the start, and had felt it keenly, for the longest time only ever chasing after the betrayers to catch up with them. In a conspiracy, one never truly got ahead of the game until the very end — in this one, not even Daud. They refrained from mentioning the Loyalist Conspiracy while at the Grand Palace. Duke Abele was nothing like Burrows, anyway; and Corvo could be only glad that there had never been two of that wretched man, even just in looks.

Lurk had returned to Serkonos soon after Delilah had found herself an imagined kingdom she was welcome to rule; muttering something about old friends. Corvo was unsure she meant only Aramis Stilton, though she may. Anyhow, Stilton could use someone at his side getting Batista back in order. Pastor wasn’t the only one who knew the people there — or Paolo and Byrne.

Daud had stayed, for reasons known only to him. They didn’t speak much. Still, Corvo knew what it meant when Daud silently offered him a drink up on the Tower roof late at night. Corvo wouldn’t have been surprised to find elixir instead of whiskey in that flask some nights, considering how Daud occasionally hounded him worse than Emily about how many cups of coffee he had during the day. Thankfully, it hadn’t come to that.

Yet. Whenever Corvo wanted to ask Daud why he cared so damn much, he bit his tongue. He suspected he wouldn’t like the answer. He didn’t much like the answers Daud gave him to much less tenuous questions, to start.

Until one day, Daud answered the one question they were both so wary of asking — quite without prompting, but not without anticipation.

In truth, they both knew. The mystery was in whether they could bring themselves to acknowledge it. At their age, fifteen years on from the event that had reunited them and torn them apart, seemingly forever, in one stroke of a blade… wasn’t it foolish?

Perhaps it was.

Still, when they were changing in the training yard and Daud reached out and tugged on the hem of Corvo’s undershirt to bring him closer, Corvo thought that they were old enough to be foolish.


	5. Leverage AU, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is madness,” Daud breathed softly into the space between them. They were so close, like this, taking the same air. He could barely see without the night vision goggles, and knew Corvo fared no better — neither of them were bats, after all.
> 
> “We’ve done worse,” Corvo whispered in return. “At your behest, I recall.”
> 
> “Cry me a river,” Daud growled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reply on [tumblr](https://screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse.tumblr.com/post/640224280541609984/16)

“This is madness,” Daud breathed softly into the space between them. They were so close, like this, taking the same air. He could barely see without the night vision goggles, and knew Corvo fared no better — neither of them were bats, after all.

“We’ve done worse,” Corvo whispered in return. “At your behest, I recall.”

“Cry me a river,” Daud growled.

“Or you admit that this was your idea—“ Corvo was cut off mid-complaint when Daud clamped a hand over his mouth.

There were footsteps on the stairs above them. Tense, they stopped moving and breathing altogether, listening for other sounds. The footsteps passed, and Daud released the breath he had very deliberately been holding. It took Corvo grunting quietly for him to remember where his hand still was, and so he quickly removed it; doing his best not to dwell on how Corvo’s breath followed, warming his palm even through the leather glove.

“Do you have the thumb drive?” he asked; somewhat needlessly but just to give his mouth something to do that wasn’t chasing Corvo’s.

“Got it,” Corvo confirmed.

And still, Daud hesitated. They had what they’d come here for. On the other hand… they’d banked on Pendleton not being in tonight. But here he was. They could…

They could take him out. But Daud didn’t do that anymore. He wasn’t a hitter anymore. Well, he still _hit_ people. A lot. But not for money — at least, not the job. Now, he only hit people to protect his team.

And Corvo, pain in his ass that he was, came first. Before his past, and before petty revenge.

As if sensing his thoughts, Corvo reached for his hand in the dark, and brought it up between them. Then, he pressed his lips to the knuckles of Daud’s gloved hand.

“We should get back. Jess will guide us out,” Corvo murmured.

Daud nodded. They should.


	6. Leverage AU, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jess,” Daud rasped, resisting the urge to touch his ear to make sure that his comm was still there. “Where do I go?”
> 
> “Take the next left, second door on the right, then up the flight of stairs,” she instructed quickly, guiding him as he hurried along. Not too fast, though. They shouldn’t see him running. Once he was in the stairwell, he could pick up the pace.
> 
> “Where’s Corvo?” he asked the question that was far more important — which was why he’d asked it three times already, the answer unchanging.
> 
> “Still on the fifth floor,” Jess confirmed. “I have three minutes until the system finds me and shuts me out, maybe four.”
> 
> “I’ll make it by then,” Daud grunted. He had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reply on [tumblr](https://screwtheprinceimtakingthehorse.tumblr.com/post/640224478546296832/maybe-22-or-24-for-the-intimacy-list)

“Jess,” Daud rasped, resisting the urge to touch his ear to make sure that his comm was still there. “Where do I go?”

“Take the next left, second door on the right, then up the flight of stairs,” she instructed quickly, guiding him as he hurried along. Not too fast, though. They shouldn’t see him running. Once he was in the stairwell, he could pick up the pace.

“Where’s Corvo?” he asked the question that was far more important — which was why he’d asked it three times already, the answer unchanging.

“Still on the fifth floor,” Jess confirmed. “I have three minutes until the system finds me and shuts me out, maybe four.”

“I’ll make it by then,” Daud grunted. He had to. The cover he’d used to infiltrate the building was flimsy at best: an easy asset to burn, but a bit of a pickle to get out of. A Sterenko was only ever temporarily fooled — not for long, and not forever. After this, it would know their faces. It would _remember_ them. If their luck turned really sour, it would search for them. And then, they were all buggered.

He’d shouldered open the door to the stairs, and was about to take them by twos then above him, several doors banged open and heavy footfall announced the arrival of steel-toed boots.

Oh, good. Daud readied himself.

“This will get messy,” he warned Jess. He had long stopped questioning his need to do so, as though one such as her might get squeamish. But perhaps she did. She didn’t like it when either he or Corvo were in danger, after all. And she certainly didn’t like _this_.

Burrows. This was the last time Daud would let that small, angry man fuck with his life. With _their_ life. So he’d have to crack a few skulls to do it. So what. He had plenty of experience with that.

Daud met the first of Burrows’ strike team head-on — no time for flashy tricks. They tussled, and when Daud broke their arm and then vaulted them over the banister to meet a thirty foot drop, he didn’t feel remorse.

Not this time.

* * *

When he got to Corvo, he had to tear off his gloves with his teeth, lest the knuckles swelled too much to remove them later; and, well. To be able to accomplish the task of disarming the small bomb strapped to the chair they’d bound him to.

Fucking Clockwork men.

Jess had picked up the signature through the sensors she’d managed to hijack before the system shut her out for good, so he’d known to go slowly, silently, the closer he got. It wouldn’t do to kick down the door only to find someone easily startled in charge of a detonator.

Without Jess, he was on his own in disarming it — Corvo was unconscious. And so were all the bad men. It was better that Corvo wasn’t awake to see him sweating, though. It had been a while. He should get back into practice; though he’d found Corvo disapproved of half disassembled bomb prototypes lying on the kitchen table. (Daud always put the C4 away safely before making dinner, so he really didn’t see what the problem was.)

He took several steadying breaths and got to work. _Softly, softly, gently does it._

Corvo came to just in time for Daud to be successful and no-one being blown to kingdom come — just yet. He sat up and leaned his forehead against Corvo’s thigh, breathing deep.

“Daud,” Corvo murmured, his voice hoarse. Not from screaming, Daud knew. Corvo didn’t crack. But they’d probably tried to starve and thirst him into talking. Goddamn thief. Always getting into trouble. _His_ thief. And so, it followed, his trouble.

Daud raised himself up so he could look Corvo in the eye.

“I’m here.”

Without another word, he cut the restraints — zip ties, really? — and helped Corvo bring his arms to the front of his body, slowly. Every muscle in his shoulders had to hurt. Daud knew the feeling.

Ignoring his own bleeding knuckles (and half wishing he’d kept his gloves on), Daud carefully raised one of Corvo’s hands and pressed a gentle kiss, barely more than a brush of his lips, to the bruises. A thief’s hands were his tools, and these bastards had played devilish tricks on Corvo’s. Daud would mend them.


End file.
